Dear Wannabe Diary,

It’s 6 a.m. and my day is already off to a sprint. By 7:45, my sister is supposed to arrive to watch my feverish toddler so I can tackle the wildest to-do list of the year. The plan? Be shaved, showered, makeup-ed (yes, I’m that ambitious today), dressed, and ready to leave with a package to drop off at the parcel machine. Oh, and manifest a prime parking spot while I’m at it.

Here’s my morning lineup:

1. Gyno appointment (manifestation vibes: engaged).
2. Pharmacy run (because B12 is my lifeline).
3. Grocery shopping (we’re one carton of milk away from famine).
4. Exchange those duplicate LEGO sets from Christmas (thanks, Santa).
5. Buy myself something indulgent because “new year, new me” or whatever.
6. Grab pre-cooked lunch (already regretting canceling today’s school lunch delivery).
7. Swing by the post office for a registered letter (please don’t be a speeding ticket).

Chaos Reigns Supreme

I’m halfway through packing the package when I hear a groggy “Maaaaamiiiii” on the baby monitor. Okay, crisis mode: finish taping this box before the clinging Velcro baby appears. She miraculously goes back to sleep, and I sneak in a quick shower.

By the time my sister arrives, I’m half-dressed, toast in one hand, giving her rapid-fire instructions while shoving the baby toward her. Kisses, hugs, and I’m out the door before she can change her mind.

Manifesting Parking Like a Pro... Almost

On my way to the gynecologist, I repeat my parking mantra. But my overtired brain keeps interrupting with its own complaints. I arrive, no spots available. Plan B: stalk someone leaving the lot. Success! Two minutes before my appointment, a spot opens up. I pay for parking immediately—and just as I do, a kind man offers me his prepaid ticket. Of course. Lesson learned: next time, delay the payment and trust in humanity.

The Appointment That Never Was

At the clinic, I’m greeted with: “Which doctor are you seeing today?” My heart sinks. Apparently, my original OB is out this month, and my appointment was rescheduled for next week. They tried to call me but… oops? A polite smile hides my inner meltdown as I head out the door, determined not to let the wasted trip ruin my day.

Retail Therapy, Anyone?

I buy myself tulips and a fancy water bottle (it was 40% off, okay?), rationalizing it as a breastfeeding prep investment. A girl needs hydration! At least the rest of my errands go smoothly, and I head home with a sense of mild accomplishment.

Nap Sabotage: A Toddler’s Sport

Back at home, my sister reports a drama-free babysitting shift. I attempt a nap for my toddler—mistake. Every time I tiptoe away, she senses my absence like a hawk. After the third attempt, I give up and resign myself to reading Joe Dispenza’s book while sitting beside her on the couch. Productivity, right?

Pediatrician Drama

Evening rolls around, and it’s time for the pediatrician. We’re greeted by a full waiting room (classic). After an hour of anxiety about germy toys, we finally get in. Blood tests reveal inflammation, and a tentative RSV diagnosis is ruled out. Antibiotics it is.

At the pharmacy, an error delays the prescription by 15 minutes—cue a call from my partner, toddler screaming in the background. I’ve perfected the art of feigned calm while juggling meltdowns.

We finally make it home at 8 p.m., feed the kiddo, administer her meds, and tuck her into bed. Exhausted doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Final Thoughts

Today was a masterclass in balancing chaos and sanity, with a few lessons sprinkled in: trust humanity (but not scheduling systems), and always buy yourself flowers.

Here’s to a better night’s sleep. Please, universe, throw me a bone.

Signing off,
Wannabe Unstoppable (but mostly just a tired mom).